World so Cold
by Blood Thirsty Angle
Summary: The story of four people, all from different backgrounds coming together for one cause. The first three became almost a family, and then the fourth member came along and changed everything, bringing about an adventure that would change them all.
1. World so cold

_**Author's note:** I've been working on this for a while. Most of the chapters are written, so here you go! It contains Forbbidenshipping! Which is Bakura and Tenionia, an OC belonging to Sorceress of the Nile! Man, I haven't worked on Yugioh in forever it seems! So yeah, the beginning chapters are mostly world building and such. If you don't like OC pairings, then leave. I haven't decided the rest and haven't gotten to that just yet._

 _ **Warnings:** None_

 _ **Disclaimer:** I don't own the sandbox. I just jump the fence to play in it._

* * *

If there was anything Akefia hated more than sand in his shoes, it was the Pharaoh and his family.

For three days without any food or water, he wandered the desert until he came upon the royal city, Thebes. Alone, he stood on a hill overlooking the city with clenched teeth and fists, eyes seething at the people running about the city. How could these people be so happy when only three days ago, mass killing of hundreds of men, women, and children took place?

"Curse them," he snarled, dirty white hair brushing across his eyes. "Damn them all!"

They could not hear him, he knew that deep inside, but oh did he want them all to suffer. It didn't matter if they knew or not, they needed to pay! Pay for just sitting by while people he knew, his mother and sisters, were brutally slaughtered before his eyes.

He rubbed his eyes, the image of his mother's body hitting the ground as her soul howled a mournful scream as she entered some golden object. His sisters were next, the two of them huddled together as the man with the blade stalked closer. He closed his eyes. He had hidden behind the wall, paralyzed with fear as people around him died. He could have, no, he should have done something! He was their older brother, his mother's oldest son! The man of the family, really, and all he could do was stand there and watch. Useless, completely useless.

He ran the minute his sisters' bodies fell to the floor, motionless. He didn't remember where he had hid, but that didn't matter. He tried to block out the screams, but there were so many! By dawn, things were quiet. He hid a little bit longer and when he crawled out of hiding, there was nothing but blood stains and missing body parts.

He hurled, and did it for five minutes as bile rushed out of his mouth. He couldn't find his mother or sisters, but he did find his mother's cloth that she always wore around her mouth. He had never fully seen her face, for reasons unknown. But the destruction of his village ensured he never would.

" _Avenge me, my son,"_ her voice whispered in his ear, soft and low, the way she always spoke. _"Destroy the wicked ones."_

" _You survived for this reason,"_ another voice hissed, one he didn't really recognize. _"Destroy the Pharaoh! Kill him!"_

" _Kill him!"_

" _Butcher his family!"_

" _Make him pay for his crimes!"_

" _Revenge! We must have our revenge!"_

For a moment, he felt his mother's presence near him, holding his shoulders as if to guide him towards the city. _"You know your destiny,"_ she said calmly. _"You know what path you must take. Avenge me! Avenge your sisters! Can't you hear them howling in despair?"_

He could hear them. Though he could not see his younger sisters, he could hear their sobs and howls of pain and despair. He swallowed dryly, seeing his younger sisters' faces. "Mesta, Samira," he ground his teeth together, the image of the two twin girls crying in front of him. "Mother, I will avenge you and my sisters."

He could feel her smile, and her hands press firmly on his shoulder blades. _"That's my boy,"_ she sounded pleased, and energy surged through him. _"Make us proud, my son. Make our enemy fall to his knees. We will always stand behind you."_

"Yes, Mother."

The other spirits swarm around him, faces of his friends smiling vengefully. There were faces of people he didn't recognize, most likely people in his village he hadn't quite gotten to know quite well. The thought of people he could have been friends with dead in the ground made the blood rush to his face. Floating in the air, he could see his mother smiling proudly down at him. _"You must promise me one thing,"_ she said, her mouth still covered by that strange white cloth, hand stretching out to him. _"Promise me, Akefia."_

"What?" he called out, trying to reach her. "What do you want me to do?"

" _I'm sorry I could not protect you,"_ a small flash of sorrow crossed her eyes, but then it faded, her now transparent gray lavender eyes hardening. _"Please treat the world as your enemy. And remember that Mother will always be on your side."_

The spirits dispersed and he pushed back the tears, making his way down the hill. The city was busy today, no one really giving him any second glances. Coming from a village of thieves and criminals, pickpocketing was almost second nature. When a man shopping with his wife wasn't looking, he looted several gold coins from the pouch around his waist. By the time he was five vendor stands away, the man noticed and hollered, but could not find who had taken his money.

"Idiot," he snickered, snatching a piece of fruit from a fruit stand as he passed it. The man was too busy haggling with a big boned woman supporting a baby on her hip.

He was so busy walking quickly through the crowd of people, looking for a place to hide, that he didn't notice the sandy blonde blur that ran past him. He felt the brush of fingertips against his and before he knew it, the small person ran off with his money! "Hey!" he shouted back, immediately taking off after the boy. "Give my money back!"

The boy just continued to run, glancing back at him just briefly enough to catch his gaze. He had lavender eyes and spikey sandy blonde hair. His skin was tan, just like his, but it looked cleaner. The kid was quick, he would give him that, but nobody stole from Akefia! No one!

"Get back here!" he snarled, loud enough for the boy to hear him. "I'll kill you! Give me my money!"

He had the boy cornered now in an alleyway, the walls much too high for the boy to climb and there were no crates available to jump on. The boy glared back at him, the pouch of coins still clenched tightly in his hand. "Why do you need it?" he asked the boy. "You dare to steal from me?"

"You're not a noble or royalty," the boy snapped. "Why do you need it?"

"It's mine!"

"Liar! You stole it! I saw what you did!"

He crossed his arms, knowing full well that the boy was correct. Technically the money belonged to the people he had stolen from, but that was beside the point. "I need it because I have nowhere else to go. I have no food, just the clothes on my back," he glared harder at the boy. "Look at you! You're too clean to be a beggar!"

The sandy haired boy just sighed. "Fine, take the money," he tossed the pouch back and Akefia caught it with ease. The boy then gave a tiny smile. "Just let me have a few coins."

"No way, they're mine!"

"Either let me keep it or I'll take the pouch back."

"I'd like to see you try," Akefia growled. "Why don't you go run back home to your Mommy?"

The boy made a face. "My mother is dead, and my father wants me to do things that I don't want to do. So, I ran away. I've been living on the street for a week now. Can I have a few coins? I'm hungry."

He paused, opening and closing his mouth. What should he do? This boy, the more he looked at him, was hungry. His clothes were worn and tattered. Would it hurt to sacrifice five little coins? "What's your name?"

"Marik," the boy responded. "My name is Marik. And yours?"

"Akefia," he replied slowly. "Since I'm in a merciful mood, I'll let you keep the money. Just don't get in my way again. I'm off to destroy the Pharaoh."

"You dislike him too?"

He turned around, now a bit surprised. "You, a citizen of Thebes, hate the Pharaoh?"

Marik nodded, mouth twisting in an ugly grimace. "It's because of him that my father is the way he is. My father is a priest and ever since I was born, he's been training me and my sister for our jobs as Priests for the Pharaoh's son, Atem."

"And your sister?"

"Older sister, but by four seasons," the boy continued to frown. "She's all for serving the Pharaoh when the other Priests step down, but not me. I don't care about monarchy. They're not really descended from the Gods, you know."

Actually, he didn't know, but he refrained from saying anything else. "So what are you going to do now?" he asked. "Your father is looking for you, isn't he?"

"Probably," Marik grumbled. "That's why I need money to get out of here. To start a new life and do what I want to do. Can I go with you?"

He jumped at the question, not expecting the boy to ask him that. His lavender eyes were earnest, almost demanding in a sense. He could sense that this boy had no love for the Pharaoh and his followers, but could he trust him? Could this boy become an ally, or even a friend for that matter?

"Alright," he stuck out his hand. "You can come with me. But I'm in charge, got it?"

"Right," Marik took his hand, shaking it. "You're the boss. But just because you're in charge doesn't mean I don't have a say. I'm not some common slave!"

"Whatever."

"So, where do we go first?"

Bakura stared off into the distance, the direction of the west. "We'll head to Teorna. I hear there are some nobles there who need to be robbed."

* * *

Tenionia, for a nine year old, knew many things. Too many things, really.

She knew her father was a crazy man, her mother kept busying herself to keep distracted, her brother was quite possibly her best friend and her sister liked to hide herself away for hours on end. Perhaps it could be considered a curse to be too perceptive, but it's not like she could change it.

"Tenionia, work harder!"

She gritted her teeth as sand was kicked in her face, hissing in pain at the individual grains that stung her eyes. The magician in front of her advanced forward, manipulating the earth around her to attack the small child. She could see the fear in the woman's eyes; worried that attacking the king's daughter would have consequences for her, but her father just stood against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Father!" she called out, panting in exhaustion. "Can I please have a break? I'm tired!"

"Not until you defeat her!" he snarled at her as the double doors to the room opened. "You are not using your full potential!"

"But-"

She toppled over as the earth under her feet moved, sending her sprawling onto her back. The magician winced, turning to her king cautiously. "Sire, perhaps she's not ready," the woman spoke carefully, dark eyes looking at her carefully. "She's only a child."

"You will do what I tell you to," her father barked at the magician, who bowed her head as he spoke. "Tenionia, get up! Don't you dare bring shame upon our family for your weakness!"

She wiped the dirt off her face, blinking in the sight of her father glaring at her. Standing next to him, with her arms crossed behind her back, Zireria looked at her coldly, black eyes unreadable. She leaned up to say something to their father, her eyes never leaving hers the whole time. He sighed, muttering something and shoed her away. She didn't like the look her father cast towards the thirteen year old girl as she walked calmly away.

"Zireria!" she called for her oldest sister. The older girl paused for a moment, but then resumed walking as if she hadn't heard her. Tenionia only whimpered. "Ria! Don't leave me!"

"Get up, you pathetic girl!" her father snapped at her again. "Get up!"

She snapped. The anger and exhaustion building up until she could see nothing but white. The whole room was engulfed in the bright light, sending the magician across the room and her head hit the pillar with a sickening crunch. She fell to her knees, panting as the light disappeared and looked to her father, who was now smirking cruelly.

"Good work," he smiled at her, but it didn't look quite right. "I suppose you're not so useless to me after all."

* * *

"Okāsan! Okāsan! Look!"

Peering through the flap of the cage, a pair of blue eyes peered out from the little cutaway piece of fabric. From the setting sun, she could see a landscape that looked so unfamiliar; like nothing she'd seen before. She'd seen sand before, but never this much. Huge triangular sculptures topped with shining gold made her jaw drop in wonder, eyes shining with awe.

She knelt down, shaking the woman on the floor. "Okāsan, get up! Come look!"

The woman only opened her eyes, the same shade as the girl's and moaned a little in discomfort. "Not now, musume. I'm tired; I want to rest."

"But-"

"I'll look later, alright?" she wrapped the thin cotton blanket around her, a curtain of once glossy black hair falling over her face. "I have a feeling this is the last leg of our journey."

"It is?"

She coughed, hiding the blood in her hand, but unaware that the girl had already seen it. "Hai," she nodded, coughing again. "I don't know if I'll make it till then."

"What?" the girl narrowed her eyes, sitting down to kneel next to her mother. "Don't say that; we're going to be together no matter what! You promised!"

"I know," the woman coughed again and reached around her neck to unhook the silver pendant she'd kept hidden from the men who'd taken them from their home. "Your father crafted this for me shortly after we got married. Do you remember what the little characters on it say?"

She took the pendant from her mother, narrowing her eyes to read the tiny engravings. "Love," she said out loud, her mother nodding her head. "And Family. Am I right?"

"Yes," her mother nodded, stroking her dark hair as she curled up against her mother's side. "Now, keep it where the men can't see it."

"Okay," she tucked the object into her dirty and torn grey cotton dress. Her mother kissed her head, humming soothingly under her breath until she felt her eyelids begin to drop. At the last moment, she saw the faraway and sad look in her mother's azure colored eyes. "Okāsan," she started in a sleepy voice. "Otōsan is looking for us, right?"

She noticed her mother's eyes widen for a moment, a few tears welling up in them. "No," she answered in a quiet voice. "Your father isn't looking for us. Don't you remember what happened?"

"Hai," she responded, squeezing her eyes shut. "But I don't want to remember what happened."

Her mother pursed her lips tightly and just smoothed back her dirty hair. "Remember this, musume. And listen well because I'll only tell you once. Your eyes are like mine. Our souls have lots of water in them. And water is very powerful. It can put out fire, wash away earth, and even destroy iron. When it's trapped, water can break through stone and forge a new path."

She didn't know it then, but that was the last time she ever saw her mother. When she awoke the next morning, her mother's body was cold and she would not wake. She screamed, and cried over her body until one of the men pulled her off. She could only watch through the flap on the cage as her mother's body was tossed to the ground. No funeral arrangements; not even a moment for prayer.

So she sat in the cage, curled up in a ball and holding her mother's necklace close to her.

" _You cannot read loss,"_ her father once told her one day before he went fishing with the other men. _"Only feel it."_

* * *

 **Just a forewarning, there is going to be historical inaccuracy. I don't know when Egypt came in contact with Japan, and vice versa. But for this story, we're going to bend history a little. And doesn't Yugioh already do that? I don't know, review please!**


	2. The girl with blue eyes

_**Author's note:** Sorry for not updating in forever! Life got busy! So sorry this chapter isn't too long; I do have a lot planned out but we'll get there. The next chapter we'll see Bakura and Marik again. Promise!_

 ** _Warnings:_** _None_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I don't own anything! Teorna and it's properties belong to Sorceress of the Nile! Who is generous enough to let me add them to this story!_

* * *

She didn't understand what all the fuss was about.

She stood in the halls of the great palace, watching the servants and guards run about. Something had happened; she knew that for certain but what it was exactly she didn't know. Mother and Father barely spoke to her; only addressing her when they felt it was necessary or when it was time to train. Silos was off at some Military camp to learn how to fight and command armies and Zireria...well, she could go weeks before seeing her beloved older sister.

She scowled at the thought, rubbing her arms where she could still feel the bruises forming under her skin. She could have easily healed them or gotten her mother to do it, but she didn't. The pain seemed to be the only reminder that she was the same as everyone else. She bruised and bled, just like the people in her kingdom. Only two hours ago she was released from her father's training. It had been a magician who specialized in combat magic; something she had never fought against before. The magician had been wary and for good reason. He'd probably heard from other magicians who had fought her before and the strange power she herself didn't quite understand. She never saw the same magician twice and she knew very well what happened to those who refused to spar against her.

She found all this "training," if one could even call it that, rather pointless. As she stood in the throne room waiting for her parents to arrive, she watched as courtiers began to gather. Families who had known hers for what seemed to be forever. Generals in her father's armies, their wives and children. Magicians, their apprentices, priests and advisers to her father. Not to mention family friends who she seldom had any contact or connections with. The only child there that she could recall having any interaction with was Amon. A boy her sister's age growing taller by the day. He was in military training with her brother and from what she had heard, one of the best soldiers they'd ever seen. Even better than her own brother. More ruthless; willing to fight dirty if need be. She didn't particularly like him, for reason she wasn't quite certain why. Nor did she like the way he looked at her sister.

She smiled politely at the ones who bowed to her and since her parents were not present, she bowed back. If her father had been present he would have scolded her and sneered at her for bowing to "low lives". Her mother would have just nodded, mind faraway and working a mile a minute.

It was strange, really. Things had been uneasy for a while. Her father was discussing troubling things with the nobles and his advisors. A string of robberies had broken out among the well to do families. Jewels and family heirlooms stolen without a trace of someone breaking in. It was intriguing, she would admit that. She had heard the whispers from the others and the more she heard, the more she wanted to know. Whoever these bandits were, they must be strong and incredibly daring to defy the rules set out by her father and his ancestors before him.

Silence descended the gold and bronze throne room and she was soon pulled away from her thoughts. Queen Arsinoe, wife of King Akrin and beloved matriarch of the kingdom of Teorna. In a fine white kalasiris, she strode into the throne room with her head held high and precious jewelry on her arms and collarbone. A crown shaped like a lotus flower topped her dark hair, made from gold. It was a sight that made people gasp and look on in awe once they noticed the silver in the crown as well. Silver was a rare metal; more precious than gold and imported from Asia, countries far away from the little palace that bordered Egypt.

She sat in the throne on the left, smaller and not as ornate as the one in the center. She smiled kindly at her subjects, giving the image of a loving and devoted queen. She truly was, she could not deny that her mother was a generous and caring ruler to her people. She looked after the orphans, the elderly. She would give money to the subjects, lead the ill to healers if they could not access them.

Yet, she could not remember the last time she'd been hugged or held by the woman. She was always so busy with the affairs of the kingdom. The only time she ever really saw her was after training or at dinner. Even then, the woman didn't really pay any mind to her.

It was almost as if she were a distant relative than her actual mother.

The doors opened once more and she felt her lips twitch upwards. Unlike when her mother walked in, no one paid much attention to Zireria as she strode serenely through the hallowed halls. Her sister was beautiful; didn't anyone else see that? She resembled their mother quite a bit, only her mother didn't have strikingly pale skin and dark brown almost black eyes. Even dressed in a gown from expensive muslin and silks, no one noticed. She wanted to reach out to her, take her by the hand and actually talk with her for once, but the girl paid no mind to her. She merely smiled at Amon, who smiled back at her.

It would be a lie if she said that didn't bother her.

She opened her mouth the minute her sister stood beside her, ready to strike up conversation when her father stepped in. Everyone bowed, even lower than they did with their mother. King Akrin, strong and wise with his people. Yet if only they could see behind the facade; behind those cold eyes. She didn't know how to feel about him. He was her father and she wanted to love him, yet there wasn't something quite...right with him. If her mother noticed, she didn't say anything. The woman was the only thing keeping the man in line. If anything happened to her mother, she didn't know what her father would do.

"Fellow subjects," her father stood in front of his throne, smiling widely at the crowd that had gathered. It wasn't a friendly smile; heavens no her father could never smile in a friendly manner. It was full of intent, malicious and cruel. As if he twisted idea of a joke hanging on the back of his mind. "Today we have in our court a peregrine mystery from the far east. An Oriental, if you will."

She frowned at the "Ooh's" and "Ah's" from the courtiers. What was an Oriental? Was it some sort of object or fine jewelry? They had spices and silks imported from India through the Silk Roads. A system of trading that deeply fascinated her. Traveling and seeing the world had always interested her. She'd heard of the jungles of India and forests in China; even the Himalayan mountains that stretched two thousand and four hundred kilometers. Yet the word Oriental had never been thrown around. At least, not when she was near.

Two men stepped into the halls, carrying something with them. She craned her head past Zireria's waist to see what was going on. Her eyes widened at the sight before her eyes. Rough men; slave traders most likely, were dragging a girl her own age into the throne room. She was dressed in rags, chains around her hands and feet. She looked absolutely terrified, blue eyes wide with terror and her lower lip trembling.

Her father stepped down from his throne, grabbing the girl by her chin and tilting her face up. "She has blue eyes; very rare for someone of country. An island country not apart of the silk road, yet borders China. Is it true she doesn't know our language?"

"It is true, your majesty," one of the slave traders grinned, shoving the girl so that she fell to her knees on the palace's stone floors. "We don't speak her language either. Her mother died on the way here but she had dark eyes. The same shade as your eldest."

She watched as Zireria stiffened at being mentioned. She almost took her hand to comfort her but the girl flinched away at contact. She bit her lip at the obvious sign of rejection and continued to look at the girl.

She was very pale, with dirty and ratty deep brown hair that looked black from a distance. Her nose was small and upturned at the tip with small lips that were cracked and dry. Her cheekbones were high and smudged with dirt with a cut that still was open and trickling with blood. Her eyes were the most peculiar thing. She had never seen anything like them before. A single eyelid with a little fold on the upper eyelid that covered inner corner.

She felt a wave of sympathy for this girl. So far from home, from her family. She obviously didn't know what her father and the slave trader were talking about for she looked around in confusion. She was alone here, without any friends or someone to talk to. Her mother was dead and she could not even begin to know what had happened to her that caused her to be dragged here in chains.

She wanted to help this girl. She felt the stir of anger surge through her body. She despised the way people were looking at this girl, as though she were some sort of wild beast. She was a human being too!

"Put her in the cage; we built it specially for her," her father waved his hand to show the mass object that was currently being lifted into the room. A metal cage with solemn looking iron bars. The girl struggled against her captors, kicking and screaming as courtiers laughed. A few looked sympathetic but none dared to oppose her father.

No one ever did. It was probably why he was so arrogant but she would find a way to talk to the girl. Or at the very least, try to help her.

* * *

"Hello there."

It was late at night; the guards making their rounds around the palace to stop any intruders. She had stowed away the second she was sent off to bed, sneaking into the kitchens to grab some fruit and water. It wasn't hard to sneak around in the palace and she knew many places to hide. Many different ways to reach the throne room where the girl was being held hostage in those solid iron bars.

Now the girl stared at her, mistrust clear in her eyes. She smiled tentatively, sliding the food and water through the bars. "It's water," she indicated her head towards the little pouch, seeing as the girl was staring at it distrustfully. "And those are grapes and figs. I was thinking you must be hungry."

The girl tilted her head at her, brow furrowing in confusion before she picked up a melon. She brought it to her mouth, biting into it once to get a taste. Blue orbs lit up with delight and she bit into the fruit once again with more ferocity. Now that she was up close towards the girl, she could see how thin she was. She could count the ribs and see the protruding hip bones that stuck out against the rags of her dress. How long was it since the girl had been given food?

"My name's Tenionia," she pointed at herself, trying to give a sign to the girl that that was her name. "Princess Tenionia."

"Teni...onia?"

Her voice was soft, like the sweet chimes of bells. She set the fruit down, licking the juice off her fingers before pointing to herself cautiously. "Anzu," she said, mimicking the same movement she just did. "My name is Anzu."

She felt her own brow furrow at the words the girl omitted. She'd never heard words like that before, but she concluded that the girl had just said words along the lines of "my name is". Better than nothing, she would admit that. At least she was communicating. For a moment, she was worried the girl would be too scared to think.

But just looking at this girl, she could see that beyond the fear and loneliness, there was courage. She had to be or else she wouldn't have survived the journey from wherever she came from. She had a strong will to live; to fight. She could see that just by looking at her; without even speaking the same language.

Even if it took a while, she would help this girl escape. Where she would help her run away to, she didn't know, but if she could she would send her back home. No one deserved to be treated like this.

No one deserved to have their family ripped away from them. No one.

* * *

 **Review please! Racism is definitely not okay!**


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